The Majestics
by The JohhnyMcKilt Productions
Summary: There's a perfectly good explanation as to why our favorite Euro team failed to master the Heavy Metal System. Their team name had never been fully understood...till after the accident that almost killed them.
1. Chapter 1

**The Majestics**

_**Chapter One**_

The two-inch heels of white boots resounded loudly as they trekked the empty halls leading to the arena of the Olympia Stadium.

Oliver Les Desmond was anxious; he couldn't help it. It was the first time in several long weeks that his beyblade was going to go against another since it was fitted with the Heavy Metal System. His team captain thought it was best for each of them to train separately, so as to fully master the workings of the new technology.

According to Robert's extensive calculations, combined with the power they'd be able to draw from their partnership with their bitbeasts, the Majestics' new HMS blades would be an unstoppable force.

It was a guaranteed, surefire win, but Oliver still couldn't ignore the lingering feeling of uncertainty in his chest.

In his weeks of solitary training, he had experience that overwhelming power from his modified blade. It took a gargantuan deal of effort to tame it, and much more to have control over it. The new system needed a radically new fighting style that the Frenchman had a hard time adjusting to. Even after he had perfected all his new attacks and more, he knew that the incredible amount of power his Unicolyon HS showed was barely a smidgen of a fraction of its true potential.

That was what they, as the Euro team, were going to test that afternoon.

Oliver walked in the desolate arena. The only lights that were on were the ones directly above the huge dish at the centre. The stands and the booths were empty; seats receded into the darkness. No one else besides the four of them was there.

"Oliver, you're here."

The usually melodious voice of the Jurgen heir now sounded tired from exhaustion and lack of sleep. The thoughtful greenette frowned and perked up.

Enrique and Johnny had taken their positions on either side of the German and across each other. Their somewhat haggard appearance portrayed the tremendous effort they had to exert to master and conquer their own blades.

There was no exchange of hellos, no lame cajoles and familiar smiles. The driving obsession to win the World Championships made the blonde and the redhead neglect themselves.

The boyish glints in their eyes vanished into deep liquid orbs, colored like the elements they guarded.

Johnny and Enrique seemingly grew up in a short span of time.

All in all, the change was frightening.

"Could I get a look at Unicolyon and check his stats?" requested Robert.

Oliver nonchalantly handed the blade over. Amphi and Sala had already been examined earlier along with Grif. The four showed an astounding 400 increase in attack and defense.

"Well done, boys," remarked the Majestics team captain with hints of a smile on his face as he rose from where he was seated. "Now for the final test run before we call ourselves World Champs. Shall we?"

The other aristocrats grinned at the statement before attaching their blades to their shooters with a merry click.

The young greenette could tell his loyal bitbeast was fidgeting restlessly. There was a chorus of 'three, two, one' followed by the sound of winders being pulled.

--

"Hello? HELLO?! There is a fire, I repeat, a FIRE in the Jurgen Mansion! PLEASE come over and hurry!" spoke Gustav clearly and calmly into the telephone's receiver.

Within minutes, sirens of both ambulances and fire trucks rang out in the Leipzig countryside. Helicopters hovered warily over a huge black cloud that issued from the now-wrecked and roofless Olympia Dome.

Gustav caught sight of the building after ushering the last of the servants out and his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"My god! What happened?!" he asked a nearby paramedic who was supervising the evacuation of a wounded elderly couple living in a townhouse in the vicinity. Their residence also caught fire.

"The Olympia Stadium exploded, sir," the other man answered. "The impact affected neighboring estates."

True, the Jurgen Mansion fire began when something akin to the force of an airplane crashing hit the power house.

"What?!" the butler was genuinely shocked. "Exploded how?"

"We have yet to know, sir," explained the paramedic. "Luckily few live around here or else things would have turned nasty."

Gustav suddenly had difficulty swallowing. "Were there people in the stadium?"

He knew the answer well, but did they?

"We still can't get in, sir. The entrances have caved in and some or our men are trying to enter through the busted roof."

Even before the medic finished, the elderly man had set off for the dangerous site at an energetic sprint.

"Sorry, sir, you can't cross this line," said a policeman sternly as Gustav tried to jump the yellow tape.

"No!" he struggled. "I have to get in there!"

"Sir!" a pyrotechnic called to the policeman from beside one of the blocked entrances. "We're ready!"

"Go ahead," ordered the other man with a lazy wave of his hand.

Soon enough, there was a loud boom and the paramedics had ground access at last. Gustav distractedly watched them enter for a few moments before remembering his purpose.

"Please let me through!" he begged the policeman. "My godson is in there!"

The crowd of authorities who were in hearing range turned about to look at him. They knew perfectly well who he was talking about and acquired a sort of solemn air in sympathy.

"We've got casualties!" a voice called quite inopportunely from the smoking mess within the dome.

"How many?" called back a supervising medic.

"Four, sir."

A parade of men in white uniforms emerged from the hole they made wheeling covered stretchers. Firemen followed their wake.

"Are there any more?" inquired the police chief.

"We've searched and the building was empty." answered a crew member.

"Will someone please tell me if those four are dead or not?!" The elderly and ignored butler was near to losing it.

"We're really sorry, sir," said a paramedic. "As of now we cannot say. If it would make you feel better, you can join the police when we take these boys to the hospital."

"Sir!" a young fireman called to the party. He was last to leave the building and the cry made heads turn. "I've found something!"

The police chief glanced inside the bag then briefly handed it to Gustav with a sorry look. At first he didn't understand till he tipped the contents onto his hand.

Four HMS beyblades, the very same ones he had seen Robert stay up late for, stood innocuous and gleaming in then obscure sun. They were perfectly unharmed. Every conveniently small and lightweight inch was till intact, except...

...the bitbeasts had disappeared from their chips.

"No..." Gustav breathed, as if doing that could reverse everything. He turned to look at the four stretchers, each bearing a limp lump concealed by a pathetic white sheet, now being hoisted into separate ambulances.

--

What happened?

The last thing he remembered was pulling the rip cord with all his might, excitedly anticipating the moment when his beyblade would land...

The collision was so indescribably intense that it threw him off his feet and sent him crashing landing to the stands.

Pain had seared throughout his battered body, starting from the back, which he believed was already broken. Then he saw a white light and blacked out.

Perhaps right now would be a good time to open his eyes.

"AAAAARRRRRRGH!!!"

Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore had made the stupid mistake of sitting up while he was at it.

"ENRIQUE!" a chorus of voices exclaimed.

Summer blue eyes welled up in pain as his best friend's face swam into view.

"Oh Enri," said Oliver. "Lie down! The doctor said you shouldn't move your back yet. It's still recovering from the operation." With that, the young Frenchman helped settle the blonde comfortably on raised pillows.

Seeing that the other's condition was no worse that his, Enrique deduced that he and the greenette were on two hospital beds fused together.

"Where are we?" he managed to ask.

"We're in the hospital," answered Robert. He and Johnny were across the room, huddled on two similarly fused beds, caught in the middle of flipping TV channels.

"Hospital?" repeated the confused Italian. "Why?"

"I don't know myself," replied Oliver. "All of us just woke up today it seems. The nurse said Gustav has yet to visit."

And he was right. Within moments, the door to their room flew open, revealing a teary-eyed butler.

"Boys!"

"Gustav!"

**TBC**

A/N: My hands hurt from the cold...xPP ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	2. Chapter 2

**The Majestics**

_**Chapter Two**_

"Young masters," Gustav smiled, trying to keep his butler-esque composure but his voice was brimming with emotion. "I _am_ glad you're all alive...especially you, Master Robert, or else I would have had to answer to your father."

The German reddened. "That's sweet of you, Gustav," he said quietly.

"Tell us, what happened?" asked Johnny.

"According to the investigation," began the butler. "You boys had been training inside the Olympia Dome. When your beyblades collided, the impact caused a massive explosion. The force of it busted our power house and ignited the West Wing. The Von Spitzveg residence caught fire as well."

"Auntie Cherry and Uncle Bob?" the Majestics cried out in unison, having encountered the kindess of the elderly, childless couple on numerous occasions. "Fire?! Are they alright?"

"They'll be fine, boys," assured the old man. "They won't be blaming anyone and volunteered to chip in for the damage expenses."

"Damage expenses?" Robert frowned. "What happened to the stadium?"

"It had its roof blasted off, sir," answered Gustav. "Nothing inside was spared."

"Investigation?" came Enrique after the stated message sunk in. "H-how long have we been out?"

"Two weeks given for you to recover."

"Two weeks?!" The Scot was appalled.

"Oh DO stop repeating whatever Gustav says, will you?" said the Jurgen heir. "It's unnerving..."

Johnny ignored him. "Exactly how extensive were the damages?"

"The Olympia Dome exploded!" said the blonde. "What do you think?!"

"Oh stop!" interjected Oliver. "Gustav tell us, if nothing inside was spared, then what happened to our beyblades?"

The team fell silent at the question. Nobody had considered that...

Oddly enough, the butler was caught off guard. He hesitated and seemingly lost his words before hanging his head.

"Gustav?" the greenette asked cautiously.

The old German slowly reached into the depths of his coat pockets and pulled out the small, metal blades. He quietly handed them over for the rich teens to see for themselves what had happened.

The hospital room was deathly silent.

...till it was broken by short sniffs from a runny nose.

Oliver wanted to cry. "Unicolyon..."

"Where--?" Enrique and Johnny turned to look at Robert for an answer.

Hardened wine-red eyes refused to meet their gazes. "...gone." the purple-haired man replied with fierce finality. "The HMS was too much for them."

--

Jonathan McGreggor opened his eyes.

All around him lay infinite darkness. It felt cold and frightening...

He was alone.

Wanting to search for a possible exit, he started walking, but almost immediately the blackness beneath his feet molded into dark tentacles that held his limbs captive. The more he struggled, the tighter they held.

A huge beast of liquid shadow reared ahead. The red-haired boy could not see it, but could sense that it was there and posed as a serious threat to his already endangered well-being. The thing was poised and ready to strike.

The Highlander's scream of defiance echoed around the black void. With an incredible swipe, he freed arms from the tentacles' bonds and instinctively shielded himself. Moments before probable death, tongues of flame shot out from nowhere, blinding the mysterious creature and his minions, making them recede into darkness once more.

He and the flames stood facing each other for a few precious moments. The former kept silent, holding high regard for it and gratitude for saving his life. The latter, on the other hand, spoke. Its words reverberated within the Scot's heart.

"_Know that I shall never leave you, and that I'll always protect you."_

And in a graceful flow, it entered him, but did not burn.

--

Jonathan McGreggor opened his eyes.

"Johnny!" greeted Oliver. "Bad dream?"

The pair was alone in their room.

"I..." the older Majestic shook his head. "Nothing. Where are the others?"

"Enri and Rob are out for their last session of physical therapy," answered the greenette.

The team was required three sessions of the said treatment before they could be released as fully recovered. "The doctor says that if he sees us functioning efficiently enough, we're free by this afternoon."

"Oh."

The young chef cocked his head to one side at the hothead's nonchalance. "You've been unusually quiet recently, John." The boy had a knack of noticing things.

Johnny sighed. "It's still hard to get used to life without our bitbeasts," he confided. "I can't bring myself to believe it."

"Oh Johnny," the French boy delicately hopped off his bed and crawled onto the other's to place a comforting arm around strong shoulders. "If you really love something, no matter what happens, in a way it'll never leave you because a part of it has become you. Get it?"

The Scot looked at him and smiled. "I get it. Thanks Oliver..."

"Good," said the other and patted his back lightly. "Come now, let's attend our last session of therapy!"

Johnny watched amusedly as the perky greenette tripped in the process of leaving the room. He sighed once more and remembered his dream. His hand automatically straightened his shirt when it chanced upon feeling his chest. Deep plum orbs widened.

_It's...warm?_

--

An immense crowd formed the human barricade that was blocking the central road leading to the main entrance of the Berlin General Hospital.

Most of the people had camped out for several days and nights, making sure they would in no way miss the discharge of Europe's beyblading pride and joy.

Apparently, the whole continent had first thought the four teens had died, hence religiously followed the televised saga (via daily news) of their struggle on the path to recovery.

A deafening roar erupted at the opening of double glass doors.

The sight of the rich quartet waltzing out the building while flashing killer smiles as if nothing happened was enough to reduce their fans to tears. Their honor was something to marvel at. Failure to master the Heavy Metal System meant that Europe could not qualify for the World Championships...again. It was clear knowledge that a small number of independent, budding teams may be sent as replacement contenders, but the thrill was not the same.

The Majestics bore their defeat with their heads proudly held high, and it wasn't until they had gotten in the waiting limo did they drop their facade. Robert sighed and fixed a displaced lock of violently violet hair.

"The first thing I'm going to do is send you all back to your homes. You guys deserve a well-earned vacation. As for me, I'll just be informing Mr. Dickinson about our withdrawal before I too shall take a leave..."

"Oh Robert," Oliver said consolingly, seeing as their team captain truly regretted the fact that they weren't going to be able to compete once more...or ever again. "It's alright. Would you like to come with Enri and I? We're going yachting in Napoli."

"We are?" asked the Italian beside him, not having been consulted about the matter beforehand.

"Yes, we ARE," replied the greenette sternly.

"Thanks but no," said Robert. "I'm planning of visiting my cousins in Vienna."

"That's nice," remarked Enrique. "Where will you go, Johnny?" he asked the Scot.

"I'm going back to my folks in Glasgow," he answered with a smile. "It's been a while since I've been home. I'm sure mum needs loads of help around the house."

"Yeah," the French boy laughed. "You having ten older siblings and ten younger ones!"

The redhead sighed as Robert shook his head.

"You know, I still find that fact hard to comprehend even if I've been to your estate and met the McGreggors."

"Aw man," the blonde was reminiscing. "You guys have four huge dogs right? They're rascals!"

"Guys stop," said Johnny. He never liked talking about his family because it was too odd.

"What's to hide about your family, John?" asked Oliver. "They're the most fun lot I've ever met!"

That extracted a groan from the Scot that sent his friends laughing.

--

"Will the Majestics be playing this year, Mr. D?" Tyson Kinomiya asked the BBA Board-Member-turned-Chairman as he returned to the small dojo's kitchen, having answered a call on his mobile phone.

The bluenette knew that Europe was always the first to hold their preliminaries. They jumpstart regionals and finals all over the world.

"I'm sorry, Tyson," said the old man. "I'm afraid they failed to master the HMS. No Majestics this year..."

"Darn it!" swore Tyson. "I never get to see them in action! I wonder what happened to them, Chief?" He turned to the genius brunette beside him.

"Well," Kenny began. "According to my data, the Heavy Metal System is truly a strong and powerful force. If a blader doesn't know how to tame and control it, his or her blade will become a wild beast, overwhelming and destructive. Mastering the HMS requires true dedication, spirit and flexibility...an all-together new fighting style that draws power from the involvement of the blader. I guess the Majestics just weren't up to that kind of innovation..."

Curiously enough, the news of the Olympia Stadium incident never left European media, surreptitiously hushed up with fat wads of cash.

**TBC**

A/N: Thanks for the support on this story! I really wish I'd be able to continue! ((is having writer's brick...xP)) ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: College is...awesome!

May I pre-warn the readers of this fic that The Majestics is yaoi (GianOli and RobJohn) though romance is not the focus of the story.

...and again, before we start, aside from **Melting the Butter**, this shall be the _second_ time I'm introducing my version of the McGregor Clan. Since they're OCs (and I don't like OCs that much), here are my simple rules for them:

One: Their mom is named Molly and their dad is named Arthur.

Two: There are 23 McGregor siblings. Johnny is smack in the middle.

Three: They have four dogs, namely Charlie, Mairi, Duncan and Ewan. They are St. Bernards.

Four: The McGregor siblings all have red hair and all their names start with the letter 'J'.

Five: (which I failed to add in my other story) Except Johnny, all the members of his family sport Scottish accents. You will find how to differentiate them shortly.

**The Majestics**

_**Chapter Three**_

Oliver sent sand flying in all directions as he jogged to the spot on the beach where Enrique was.

Flecks of cool salt water roused the blonde who was dozing under the sun. Summer blue eyes lazily opened to acknowledge his wet best friend.

"How was your swim?" he asked.

"The water's great, En," the French boy replied with a dazzling smile and plopped down beside him. "You should have a dip."

"I will," said the Italian. "...once the tide comes in so I could catch the waves."

Oliver laughed and looked about. The couple had found themselves a secluded spot hidden by a wall of eroded earth laden with overgrown plants. Not far off, Enrique's boat was tied to a huge boulder.

This little island beach, located thirty mintues away from the west of Napoli, was owned by Oliver's uncle, who's immense summer mansion rose above the surrounding nature. The beach was opene to anyone, which wasn't much because not many knew of the place's existence. That worked for both Oliver's uncle and the miniscule population of beach patrons, who did not enjoy a crowded waterfront.

The two younger Majestics had separated themselves from the main strip of the beach where most of the people were an enjoyed the solitude their spot offered.

Oliver grabbed a bottle of cold tea from their picnic basket, opened it with a merry crack of the plastic before taking a long drink and sighing in contentment. He gave a small yelp of surprise when he found himself being trapped between Enrique's legs. The blonde then attacked his neck with light kisses and nuzzles.

"Enrique...Inriqui!" he squealed between helpless giggles, trying to dodge te ticklish touch. "I am SO going to deflate your fat a-aaAH!"

A sudden distant scream jolted the pair from their playful antics. The other beach goers were crowding by the shore and panic slowly settled within the atmosphere.

"What's going on?" Enrique asked, standing up.

The French boy followed the suit. "I don't know..." was his reply.

"HELP!" A far of cry rang out on in the open air.

Summer blue eyes widened. "Holy crap! Someone's drowning!"

True enough, the flailing speck of a person could just be seen bobbing up and down by the horizon. On the shore, a few brave swimmers were jumping into the waters in the hopes to save a life.

Oliver and Enrique found themselves staring at the scene in shock, not knowing what they could possibly do to help.

"They..." the former began, watching the pseudo-rescuers. "They won't make it in time."

"What?!" the Italian beside him exclaimed in panic.

"They won't save him in time!" the greenette yelled ad without thinking, slammed his hand down on the sand with such bruising force.

It caused a seismic quake that ran like lightning through the earth, breaking exactly beneath the spot where the drowning man was. The force of the quake traveled through the water, bringing on a tidal wave and tossing the man in the air.

"Hoah!" said Enrique and raised his arms out in from of him in protection. The enormous wall of water momentarily stopped all motion before surging toward the shore.

The drowning man and his potential rescuers were washed gently on the sand, then the sea was calm once more.

A pregnant silence filled the air before cheers erupted on the beach. All of the swimmers were safe, shocked somewhat, but safe. The more sensible people in the crowd were bringing them to first aides to check for any sort of injury while doting others kept baraging them with questions like if they felt okay or if they needed anything.

The noise levels were rising once more as relief and beach vibes flooded back to all the vacationers save two.

Unseen and unnoticed, Oliver and Enrique watched as people slowly resumed their activities now that the man and the other swimmers were safe. The pair was still stupefied.

"Enrique?" the French boy said slowly. "Wh-what just happened?"

The blonde looked at his best friend and found him staring wide-eyed at his hands. Enrique looked out to sea. The blue expanse was flatter than a sidewalk.

He shook his head. "I...I don't know..."

- - - -

"JONATHAN!!" his father belowed. "Yer Ma, yer sisters and yer brothers and I are out to fix things with the neighboring glens. Ye are goin' to be left in charge around here..."

Johnny was halfway down the steps of the McGregor Castle in Glasgow when he heard his father's overly loud reminder.

"They're called conferences in estates, Da," he said with a smile. "But yeah, I'll be your man of the house."

Following a brash burst of laughter was the lilting voice of his mother. "Dinna be so hard on Emma, dearie," she said and Johnny pouted.

Emma was the only helper in the entire household and she was 78 years old.

"And dinna forget to feed the dogs!" called his eldest brother amongst a crowd of eleven other redhead siblings.

"Wait a sec!" said Johnny. "Exactly how long will you guys be gone?" he asked testily.

"As long as there be food for yer younger siblings, darling," said his mother.

"But there will always be food, Ma," the Majestic pointed out.

His mother beamed and pinched his cheek hard. "That's a good bairn," she said and turned to leave.

Johnny's eleven elder siblings bid goodbye to him as they walked out the double oak doors of the castle. He took a peek and saw that the largest sports car they owned was parked on the driveway. The roof was stacked with luggage.

- - - -

"Are Ma and Da gone?" July asked, peeking out from behind a pillar. In her wake were eleven boys and girls younger than her.

She was next in line after Johnny. who was, unfortunately, smack in the middle of the overwhelming number of Molly and Arthur McGregor's sons and daughters.

"Yes, Ma and Da have gone," was his stern reply. "But that doesn't mean you've all got the license to wreak havoc."

July sighed in relief as her brothers and sisters came out of their hiding place. Most of the ones below the age of ten had pleading looks. They knew Johnny was lenient.

"Oh please, John!" one for them said. "It isna like we'd make a mess. We'd clean it up, we promise! Just let us play!"

Johnny heaved a sigh. "Alright...go play. But don't disturb Emma!"

There was a collective cheer from the small group.

"I knew ye had a big heart, John," said his younger brother, second to July.

'Don't try and sway me with words, Jeff, or I'll tell Ma you were the one who shaved Mairi last week."

Mairi is one of the McGregors' four huge St. Bernards.

Jeffrey ran away screaming incoherent things and Johnny frowned. Those dogs needed to be fed. And right about now, it was hard to believe his younger brothers and sisters were any of their actual ages.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

- - - -

"Why is it raining?" Jerry whined.

The eleven McGregors were cooped up in some part of the castle, looking out at the gloomy, wet world through a large window. Their play had been cut short too early.

"Ye daft, lad," scolded Joe. "Dinna blame it..."

A sudden clap of thunder and the flash of lightning made them all scream. The power consequently went out and sent the younger ones screaming louder.

"Calm down!" Johnny roared over the noise. He cursed uner his breath as he couldn't see in the pitch black of the corridor. The sky was too dark to provide them with any sufficient light.

"Stick together, all of ye," came the calm voice of July, who was trying to herd all of her brothers and sisters. "Tha' way ye get nae hurt."

"Listen to your sister," Johnny said grumpily. "I'll just go find a damned light—oof!"

He hit a table and heard a couple of giggles.

"July, where's Jill?" he asked, suddenly remembering the youngest of the twenty-three, who was barely five.

"I've got a tight hold on her brother. She's fallen asleep. How? I dinna know."

Johnny snorted. "Good," he nevertheless said, speaking toward the general direction of their noise. "I'll just go find Emma then...EMMA!!" he unceremoniously called.

When there was no answer but more giggles, he bit back a crisp curse and let out his frustration in an angry sigh.

_Damned weather!_ he thought and felt his emotions flare up inside him.

"Woah!"

The exclamation from his siblings made him look. He could see their faces clearly in this new orange glow and they were staring at him like he'd grown another set of legs...

...or like he was holding two brilliantly burning balls of fire in his hands.

Johnny's eyes widened in shock at their appearance. Though they were definitely real, they neither stung nor burnt.

"Brother's on fire!" one of younger redhead's screamed and a cup of cold drinking water was promptly splashed his way.

"Hey what--?!"

A large flame leapt up once more from Johnny's palm. This time, his sister's furious face met him and a thick blanket covered his form.

"This'll keep th' fire out! Stay still, John! Jessica, call Emma!"

"Emma! Emma!"

"Ju-July! I'm not on fire! St-STOP!"

- - - -

Robert Jurgen shivered slightly as he viewed Vienna's rich countryside from the balcony of his aunt's estate.

The weather was a bit chilly for the summer. He wondered how his friends were.

As of the afternoon, he had the mansion all to himself. His relatives had been called away for short business and he was free to use the pool, abuse the availability of servants not his own or whatever he saw fit for recreation.

Right now, though, the balcony suited him best.

Robert was brooding, that he could admit to himself. He was thinking of the loss of their bitbeasts, how unexpectedly lonely it was without Griffolyon. He thought of how he'd have no face to show to the other Beyblading teams, how they'd hear of their weakness and be either pitied or mocked: two things he immensely detested.

Having nothing to do after numerous weeks of sleepless nights and unforgiving training was quite boring yet soothing. He wasn't productive in any way yet that seemed to do him good, which struck Robert as odd because he was used to stress. He missed it, but he was glad to be without it.

The German sat down on a garden chair beside a matching desk. On its glass surface lay magazines, an ashtray and all sorts of small tirival ornaments. A gentle breeze blew as another sigh escape between his lips. He was immersed in his worries and absently fiddled with the reading materials in front of him.

His fingers were unconsciously dancing this way and that...

...and when Robert came to, almost everything in the veranda was airborne, hovering inches off the ground because of the wind.

He blinked in surprise and all of the things came crashing down. Robert frowned.

Did everything just...float? He shook his head, dismissing the prospect of such an impossible phenomenon.

Robert stood in the hopes of getting a drink and turned his back to the view outside. But, something in his gut stopped his foot from advancing and instead made him pivot.

A crazy idead just came into the man's head and even if he'd look like a total moron carrying it out, no one would be around to see him.

He raised his right hand, turned his palm skyward and waited for something to happen.

Gradually, a small whirlwind grew and became visible, like water being sucked down a drain, with the narrow tip on Robert's palm, as if the column of wind came from inside him. Such was the German's shock that he immediately balled his hand into a fist and the wind died down.

However, curiosity got the better of him and he opened his hand once again. This time, the wind came much faster than before and sat in a whirl on his palm, like some patient thing waiting for instruction. Robert looked out past the forest-garden surrounding the estate and to the sea and horizon.

He then raised his hand and, with a sort of push-throw motion, led the wind toward that direction.

A powerful gale followed shortly. Winds so strong it could uproot trees howled from the mountains and down to the sea, as if the sun was a large vaccum.

Robert yelped and tried to grab hold of his aunt's things before they were blown away.

"STOP!" was his almighty screech and the winds seemingly vanished. All was still hot and quiet.

Footfalls thundering up the steps made the purple-haired man turn around.

"Master Robert! Master Robert! Is anything the matter?" the butler of the household asked, clearly out of breath.

The teen could only stare at him and slowly shake his head.

- - - -

"Robert! Robert! Something WEIRD is going on!"

"Robert! What's HAPPENING?!"

"Hi Unca Wobewt!"

"Johnny? Is that Jill?"

"Yeah it is!"

"Oh hi, Jill! Remember me?"

"Unca Enrique!"

Robert sat back in his swivel chair and sighed. True, the multi-video communication wed camera he installed in his team's laptops took some time to get used to but he wished their enthusiasm over it wasn't so.

"Hello, Jill," he greeted the four-year old McGregor kindly. She was waving frantically at the screen, her flaming red hair obscuring most of the background of a now-brightly-lit house. "You're a good girl, aren't you?"

She jumped in Johnny's arms, nodding energentically. "Aye! As good as any lass!"

"Then run along and play with your sisters. You're older brother's got a lot of important things to do."

Jill's eyes went wide. She beamed, wriggled out of her brother's grip and ran out the monitor's viewing range, screaming shrilly. The Scot she left sported a most brotherly look none of his team mates had ever seen before and made Oliver and Enrique giggle.

"What's wrong?" Robert asked, facing the screen. One half showed sunny Naples while the other half showed Glasgow.

His three mates started speaking at the same time. A nerve popped up on the German's forehead.

"One at a time..." he said calmly. "Please."

"LOOK!" they said in loud unison.

Oliver, Enrique and Johnny had held their hands open. The awesome powers of earth, water and fire respectively jumped out at him. Robert effectively disguised his squeak of surprise into a manlier cough.

"You too?" Oliver asked Johnny as if they were merely talking face to face.

"Yeah!" the latter answered. "It just sort of...came up suddenly, but the funny thing is it's doesn't hurt or burn me or anything!"

They all turned their attention to their team captain, waiting for some God-send panacea.

Robert sighed, held out his hand and displayed his control of the wind in simple response. "It's happened to me too..." he said.

"It didn't surprise you at the least?" asked the Italian among them.

"Of course it did! But I don't know why...or how this happened," was his somewhat heated reply.

"Like a dream, eh?" Oliver said, looking at his best friend before turning his attention back at the screen. "Surely we should meet and figure this out. It's kind of awesome and scary at the same time, you know..."

"So soon?" Johnny asked the beaching pair. "Honestly, I'd like more time to get used to controlling this and see if it'd get me anywhere. I don't think what has happened just popped up without any good reason."

"Johnny's right," Robert said, rubbing his temples in sudden fatigue. "We don't know what we're dealing with or how to tackle it. I think it's best not to push things. For all we know, this might be a reaction to something we ate...like a new kind of cheese."

The redhead and the blonde among them ogled at the German in disbelief while the Frenchman looked at him with amusement on his features.

"You really DO need this vacation, Rob," he said kindly. "We all do. As this isn't exactly life threatening I guess it COULD wait till we're finished with our breaks."

"Don't go jumping into research on this, alright?" Enrique added.

Their captain nodded with understanding. "But I WILL contact any of you if something new comes up."

"My sentiments go with Enrique," said Johnny. "If I hear so much as you opening a book about this..." To show what would happen, flames engulfed his fist.

Robert held up his hands in calm surrender as there were cries of amazement from the two boys in Napoli.

"That fire is starting to look real awesome, John!" Enrique remarked.

"Why thank you," answered the redhead.

"Alright men," began the German. "Enjoy your vacations, all of you. As for...what's happened...well, I don't know. We'll talk about it soon."

**TBC**

A/N: Forgive typos! I'm sorry. It was quite a crappy way to end the chapter. How am I supposed to know how to react if you suddenly had the power to control one of the elements? In...a dignified I'm-a-Majestic-blader sort of way?! Well...yeah. More exciting bits to follow...sooner or later...

...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


End file.
